Lost
by besterjester
Summary: Only months after the end of the war, Hermione is left without three years of memories. Who will help her find herself?
1. Chapter 1

**December.**

They tell me that it was a head injury that made me lose my memory. That, after six years of fear, I finally flew on a broomstick. I should have known that nothing good would have come out of it; a bludger to the head and now three years of lost memories.

They all stood over me when I woke up. Their faces were achingly familiar yet so different, hesitant smiles on their mouths. Everyone was older than I remember, taller, more tired.

The bitter woman I shared a ward with at Mungo's told me it's a blessing that I can't remember anything, because it meant I've forgotten about the war.

Apparently I'm a hero. On my second day here, Ginny brought in some newspaper clippings. My face was on the front page of several, alongside Harry and Ron. Most of the time I'm confused, but when she told me Voldemort had been gone for seven months, I knew a brief happiness again.

Despite everyone's attempts, I still don't remember anything after the summer of fifth year.

Ron told me that I'm his girlfriend, that we were going to move in together after Hogwarts. It amazed me how much things can change in three years. He cried yesterday, because I told him that I don't love him more than a friend, that I don't know who I am anymore.

Everything has changed.

It was Harry's turn to visit today. Healer McDonald had drawn a roster for my friends, in the hope that spending time with them wouldl bring back my memories.

Harry sat next to me, school texts on the floor beside him and elbows braced against his knees as he leant towards me.

"You were helping to rebuild Hogwarts, Hermione," he was telling me, filling in some blanks in the empty space of my mind, "So many students have come back to learn and help rebuild the castle. There will be hundreds of us taking NEWTs this year. The wizarding community isn't scared to learn or be out in the open anymore."

I watched him as he spoke, barely listening to his words. His eyes were so sad, and he had scars that I didn't remember. But he was taller too, more confident in himself.

"You were having problems, Hermione. We're all still getting over the war, learning to live again, but I guess… it takes longer for some."

"Lucky I don't remember it, then," I said, but my attempts to be cheerful only made Harry wince.

"Yes, well…"

"I want to see my Mum and Dad, Harry," I said, interrupting his awkward words, "Will you owl them for me? Why aren't they here?"

The look of anguish that crossed my friend's face made me clutch my sheets tightly in my fists. I felt my mouth tremble when he couldn't bring himself to answer.

"They're not… they didn't… Harry, did Voldemort get them?" I stuttered, and sagged in relief at his fervent head shake.

"No, Hermione. Last that you told me, about three months ago, they were well."

"I don't understand what the problem is." I frowned and traced patterns on my plain white sheet. The slowness of my thoughts was frustrating me more and more every day. Healer McDonald said that my clarity of mind would return in time, but I had to be patient. Where there used to be hundreds of thoughts swirling through my mind, were now only sluggish, single thoughts that were whisked away on a non-existent breeze.

"Hermione, I'm so sorry," Harry moaned, rubbing his forehead as he avoided my unsteady gaze, "This is all my fault. You shouldn't have ever become friends with me. Maybe I'll go get Ginny, she'll explain better."

He trailed off and pushed his chair back, but I caught his hand before he could leave.

"Just tell me what happened to my parents, Harry."

There was silence. Then, "You Obliviated them, Hermione. Obliviated them and sent them to live in Australia, far away from the war and from you."

I let go of his hand and sat back on my pillows. "Okay," I managed to whisper.

Harry reached forward to touch my shoulder, but I shifted away, as far as the single bed would allow.

"Hermione…"

"I'm fine, Harry. Please, I just need to be alone."

I rolled over and heard him stand. Only when his footsteps faded away did I allow myself to cry.

A few days later, I unintentionally made him feel as wretched as I did. That day, we sat in silence as he studied and I examined a muggle puzzle given to me by Healer McDonald. I was having problems with walking, and he hoped that I could improve my motor skills by completing various puzzles.

"Harry," I began, breaking the silence, "How is Sirius? I haven't seen him and Remus since I've been in here."

His knuckles whitened as he gripped _Magic Through The Ages, _and I suddenly didn't want to know the answer.

"We lost them both, Hermione," he finally muttered, pain in his voice, "You were there for Sirius. It was in the Ministry. And Remus and Tonks died at Hogwarts. I'm Teddy's guardian, but for now he's with his grandma."

"Teddy?" I asked, a frown on my face. My heart felt heavy and my stomach was sick as I thought about Sirius and Remus. I supposed I'd already felt all of these emotions, had already grieved for them, but now I had to live through it again. I remembered meeting Tonks briefly at Grimauld Place, and mourned her also.

"Remus and Tonks' son."

A small "Oh," left my mouth, and we lapsed into a heavy silence.

So much had been lost, so many people gone. I cried for a day when I found out about Fred.

Two weeks passed, and I could walk short distances. That day, Ginny was with me. She was thinner than I remembered, beautiful despite her tired eyes and listless movements. She wasn't the child I remembered, but a woman with a heavy burden and a determined smile.

"We helped each other a lot," she was saying, head bowed as her fingers twisted in her lap, "You and me helped each other get out of bed in the morning. When Fred… when Fred died, Harry didn't know how to look after me, but you did. When your parents' memory didn't come back, Ron was at a loss and I brought you back to life."

She was crying, and I cried with her. I didn't remember anything, but my body seemed to remember my previous depression. And it was no wonder that I had turned to Ginny for help; Ron had the emotional capacity of a newt.

I said as much, and she sighed.

"He's so lost, Hermione. He thought you'd wake up and remember him, welcome him with open arms and your usual kiss."

"_Kiss_?" I gasped, incredulous. I hadn't kissed anyone apart from Viktor Krum – that I remembered, anyway. She giggled for the first time since I woke up, and I was surprised to find a smile on my face as well.

"Yes, well, you _were _going to move in together, so I imagine that you did more than _kiss_," she laughed, trailing off with a pointed look. I promptly turned pink, horrified that I didn't remember something that important.

"But it's Ron!" I finally managed to gasp, shaking my head.

"Yes, and you loved him."

There was silence as I tried to process all of this new information. My usual headache was building, and when I closed my eyes briefly, I found that it was night when I woke and Ginny was gone.

When Healer McDonald told me that I could go back to school three weeks later, I didn't know how to react. It was as if losing my memory made me also forget how to _feel_.

"It'll be overwhelming, but Madam Pomfrey is fully aware of the situation and is on standby to offer you any support. You'll need to visit me for bi-monthly checkups, and contact me if you ever even _think _you might remember the last three years.

"You know the steps to take if you feel like everything is getting a bit too much, and Professor Mcgonagall has already offered full academic support to help with NEWTs.

"And Miss Granger," he said as he finally stood, the light from the window illuminating his greying hair and worried eyes, "I just wanted to say thank you."

"What for?"

"I know you don't remember, but you saved my son's life that night. I owe you everything."

"You owe me nothing," I whispered, tears filling my eyes as he squeezed my hand in such a fatherly gesture that it made my heart break.

"Good luck, Miss Granger."

His shoes made a pleasant sound on the floor as he left me alone, and I sat back on my bed. I was going back to Hogwarts with nothing but memories from before my fifth year of school.

Everyone knew who I was, but I had no idea anymore.


	2. Chapter 2

Everything had changed; in one way or another, everyone had been ravaged by the war. Some had physical scars, and I noticed that others became lost in their thoughts for far too long. Neville had taken to wandering the greenhouses when he wasn't helping with the rebuilding, and I caught Professor McGonagall crying in her office when I floo-ed into it.

Then I cried upon realising that her being headmistress meant that Dumbledore was gone.

Despite winning the war, we were all lost in one way or another. But no one looked more lost than Malfoy.

I was sitting at what used to be Gryffindor's house table; Ron had told me McGonagall abolished the houses in hopes for student unity.

_A bit late now, _was the bitter thought that floated through my sluggish mind.

Malfoy was sitting alone at the original Slytherin house table, staring down at his plate. He'd gotten thin, like we all had. War and recovery will do that to a person.

"Who are you looking for, Hermione?" Ginny asked from where she was sitting next to me. I'd been back at school for a week, and she hadn't left my side. She was my buffer, albeit a delicate one, from the stares of pity and sadness people sent me. Some of the students I recognised, others –like a tiny second year girl who hugged me about the waist on my first day back – I didn't.

"No one," I muttered, averting my eyes from the pale man. His hair wasn't as bright as I remembered; somewhere in the last three years it had darkened, and his face had filled out. "Only, I just don't remember who the girl is, sitting next to Seamus."

Ginny flicked her eyes over to where Seamus was sitting, before sighing. "That's Lavender Brown."

"How?" I whispered, stealing a horrified look at my classmate. She had her long hair arranged to cover one side of her face, but the damage was too severe to hide.

"Fenrir Greyback got her. You saved her life, actually. Stunned Greyback and got her to safety before she bled to death."

The look of pity in Ginny's eyes was becoming too much for me as I struggled to comprehend what she was saying. Putting together the pieces of my past was near impossible, especially with these wild stories people kept telling me. Horcruxes, Nagini's fang from the Chamber, living with Harry in a tent, breaking into Gringotts, being in love with Ron…

I abruptly pushed back my chair and strode out of the hall, lest I spontaneously combust into tiny pieces. I ignored Ginny's worried calls and headed outside through the main doors.

Cold winter air bit into my uncovered skin as I jumped down the steps and leant against the cold stone castle walls. I could see Hagrid and a team of smaller people working on the grounds, clearing away debris and replanting grasses and trees in the snowy ground.

Grawpy was helping a group of Ministry wizards at the old gates, where they were reconstructing the perimeter and erecting a huge, spell-enforced fence. This new fence stretched as far as I could see into the forbidden forest and around the other side of the castle. There would be no entering or exiting Hogwart's grounds from anywhere but the designated gates now.

I hardly recognised the castle anymore. Where it had been completely destroyed or damaged by stray spells, white stone was being used to replace the original dark grey stone. More windows were being added to the reconstruction, and the result was an open, bright home; a far cry from the dim corridors and occasional windows that I remembered.

I think I liked this change. It meant that I could have a fresh start alongside Hogwarts castle.

I came out of my reverie with a jerk of surprise as someone called my name. Hagrid had straightened up from where he was working and was waving at me. Panicking, I pretended to not see him as I ran behind the greenhouses and settled myself in a snow-free spot. Hidden there, I briefly remembered safely and tranquillity for a few moments.

On my second day back, Hagrid had found me and crushed me in an achingly familiar hug, but I couldn't stand to see his sad eyes and grey-streaked beard. Needless to say that reintroducing me to an ecstatic Grawpy had sent me into a panic.

I leant back against the greenhouse's glass wall and felt warmth seep into my body from the humid building. I idly traced patterns in the dirt as I shut my eyes. My thoughts were slowly picking up pace as the days passed, but no old memories were surfacing. My mind told me that I was about to start my fifth year after spending the summer at 12 Grimauld Place, but my body told me that I was nineteen and ready to live my future.

"Hello, Hermione," a deep voice said, not sounding surprised at finding me in an odd place. I opened my eyes as a large shadow fell over me.

"Neville," I murmured, and he sat down next to me. Of all the changes I'd seen, his was one of the most dramatic. Despite his wandering about the castle and occasional troubled days, he was different. Confident, strong, no longer the baby-faced forgetful boy that I remembered saying goodbye to at the end of fourth year.

"You're looking well," he commented idly, and I shrugged. I too looked nothing like what I remembered. When you're older, three years won't make much of a difference to appearances. But when you remember being sixteen and now you're suddenly nineteen, three years mean the whole world. My hair was shorter, lighter, not as bushy. I was scrawnier, and my eyes looked too big in my small face.

Seeming to notice my disbelief at his comment, he said, "You look better than you did a few months ago. You're not as… haunted, anymore."

"That's because I can't _remember _a few months ago, Neville!" I growled, and he rolled his eyes. He had definitely changed.

"Some would consider that a blessing, you know. You probably don't have nightmares anymore, or cry every time someone mentions Dobby like you used to."

That was true. When I woke up of a morning, I felt rested despite my headaches. On more than one occasion I'd bounded out of bed ready to start a day of school, before remembering that Fred was dead and my parents didn't know who I was and Sirius and Remus were gone. But that wasn't the comment from Neville that caught my attention.

"Dobby?"

"You remember Dobby, don't you?" Neville asked, sounding unsure.

"Yes, of course. The house elf. Where is he, then? I hope he's still working here."

Neville rubbed his forehead awkwardly, and straight away I felt sick. It was just like finding out about my parents all over again.

"Hermione…"

"Don't say it, Neville," I whispered, dropping my face to my hands. It turned out that running away from Ginny had only brought me even more pain. Neville set a heavy hand on my shoulders and kept it there, comforting me more than any words ever could.

"Just for the record, my parents don't know who I am, either," he commented after a while, and I shrugged his hand off my back. That was enough physical contact for one day.

"I know. Is that meant to make me feel better?" I sounded amused for the first time in a while, and he flashed me a grin. I was surprised to notice his straight teeth and attractive smile.

"Maybe not. But just remember, it's never as bad as you think it is. Someone is always worse off. Like Malfoy, for example." He nudged me and laughed, before remembering that _I _couldn't remember. When I didn't react, he awkwardly said, "Erm, right. Do you know about Malfoy being a deatheater?"

I nodded. Harry had told me a few days ago, and I almost didn't believe him. The boy I remembered was just that; a boy. He was a malicious, egotistical idiot, but not a bad person.

"Well, after his father died a few months ago, he inherited all of the estates and all of the prejudice against his father. Combine that with his own misdeeds, and it's safe to say that Draco Malfoy isn't the most popular person in the Wizarding world."

"Harry told me he and his family changed to our side. And he's been helping with the rebuilding, I work on the same team as him," I commented.

For two hours every day, before or after classes, we were split into groups of ten. This was our rebuilding team, and I had somehow found myself on Malfoy's. Harry had told me that this was for me to keep an eye on him, but of course I didn't remember half the spells that I supposedly already knew; I was more than useless as a guardian.

"He's been subdued, Hermione. Without his cohort of buddies, he's not as troublesome. He knows he has lost. All he can do now is get on with his life."

I shrugged, trying to digest all of the information being thrown at me. Healer McDonald had taught me a method before I was discharged from Mungo's; receive, process and store. Right now I was receiving, but finding it difficult to process the information.

"Thanks, Neville," I murmured, closing my eyes again. He took this as his cue to leave, hauling himself to his feet. "Oh, and Neville?"

He paused and glanced back at me. "Yes?"

"You're looking well also. You're so different to what I remember, but in a good way."

"I _am _different. War does that to people, Hermione."

He walked away, and I rubbed a few tears from my eyes.

Everything was different.


	3. Chapter 3

The castle was being prepared for Christmas, but I for one definitely lacked a Christmas spirit. It was my first one without Mum and Dad, and I truly felt as if they had died.

We were released from classes a week before Christmas day. Many students would be going home, but I had chosen to stay at Hogwarts for the time being. I had nowhere to go other than the Burrow, and nothing but heartache waited for me there.

My rebuilding team were completing our last task before the holidays, and I focused on my work so I didn't have to listen to two girls chatting excitedly about their plans. I was so absorbed in restoring a tapestry to its former glory that it took some moments to notice Malfoy working alongside of me. I spared him an awkward nod, and his eyes flickered in response.

"Hemione, where can I hang this?" a tiny girl - the second year who had surprised me with a hug on the first day back – asked, tugging on my shirt. I'd since found out that her name was Lucy Abbott, Hannah's little sister.

"Over here, Lucy. Thank you, I can do it." I tore my eyes away from Malfoy to turn to little Lucy. Taking the small tapestry from her hands, I walked towards a blank wall space and then stared at it in confusion. I knew, as the team leader, it was my responsibility to hang up the tapestry – but I couldn't remember the spell.

I was still standing there, confusing warring in my mind, when the tapestry was taken from me.

"Here, Granger. I'll do it," Malfoy muttered. His eyes had dark shadows underneath, and I acquiesced without a word. I missed the look of surprise in his eyes, too focused on his wand as he performed his spell work.

"_Wingardium leviosa, permanento,"_ he said, attaching the tapestry to the wall. I scrunched up my face in confusion – I remembered _wingardium leviosa, _but not the second spell. "Thanks," I said with a frustrated sigh. I rubbed my forehead where a headache was steadily building. "You're… welcome?" he said, seemingly in question. I'd learnt over the last two weeks that when people acted hesitantly around me, it was because I treated them differently than I did three months ago, back when I still had my memories. Given Malfoy's reaction, I guessed that he hadn't been high on my list of people to be kind to. I forced a smile at him, and he glared suspiciously at me. _There _was the Malfoy I remembered, the one who didn't wander around like a ghost with exhausted eyes and slumped shoulders. "Look, Granger –" he started to say, but was cut off. "Hermione! There you are!" I turned to see Ron walking towards me. It still surprised me, the way I expected him to be the fifth year version of himself. Instead, he looked more like George every day. His eyes flickered between myself and Malfoy, and only then did I realise how close we were standing. I took a step away, and stiffened as Ron quickly grabbed me in an embrace. Over Ron's shoulder I saw Malfoy roll his eyes and turn back to his work. Ron let me go and tugged me to a quieter spot before I could pull my hand from his. "What do you want, Ron?" "I just wanted to talk to you, Hermione," he said, tightly squeezing my hand. The way he stood over me, eyes locked onto mine and fingers tracing patterns on my palm, was so familiar yet so foreign. My headache grew, and I snatched my hand back. "What about?" I asked lightly, forcing a smile. Every time we'd been alone in the last two weeks, awkwardness seeped into our conversations. He insisted on touching me in such an intimate, uncomfortable way, brushing my hair from my face or putting his hands on my waist. "Come home with me for Christmas," he said quietly, half reaching out to me but dropping his hand by his side as I shifted away. "Ron, we talked about this," I sighed, looking away. He'd cornered me several times over the last few days, and each time made me feel more and more confused and uncomfortable. "How about you come as my… as my friend," he said, voice growing smaller as he said 'friends'. He truly looked heartbroken, and I ached to see my best friend in so much pain. "I'll think about it, okay?" I started to walk away, but he caught my waist, spinning me back around to face him. "I'm not going to give up on you Hermione," he said in a low voice, blue eyes intent on my brown ones, "I'm going to fight for you. I'm going to fight for _us_. Even if you don't remember what we had, we can make new memories all over again. You can fall in love again." He didn't give me a chance to reply, and I stood frozen as he bent his head and pressed his lips against mine. My mind was reeling in shock and confusion, and I broke away from him. "_Don't _, Ron!" I yelled, tears splashing down my face, "You're my best friend and you're confusing me! Leave me alone!" I ran from him before he could grab me again, trying to escape the confusion and heartache raging in my body. Everything was so different.I stood on the reconstructed astronomy tower, trying to breathe deeply and calmly lest the confusion and terror overcame me. Snow fell peacefully around my feet, but I felt anything but peace inside. I hardly noticed my shivering as I stared out at the mountains surrounding Hogwarts. In the castle, everyone who had stayed for Christmas was feasting. A memorial had been held earlier in the day for our casualties, and it was the most subdued Christmas I'd ever seen. I couldn't stand the fake smiles and forced cheerfulness, so I left. The Weasley's had decided to stay for Christmas, with Mr and Mrs Weasley visiting during the day. According to Ginny, it was too awful at the Burrow without Fred; too painful. "Granger? Do you want to die out here?" a cool voice interrupted my jumbled thoughts, and I jumped. Turning around, I saw Malfoy standing at the tower entrance. His face was its usual pale, and his darker hair swept across his eyes. "That's up for debate," I said drily, and turned my back on him, rubbing my arms for warmth. "That's not funny," he said quietly, and I shrugged. "Wasn't meant to be." There was silence, and I assumed he'd left until I heard his footsteps crunching through the snow. "Here," he muttered awkwardly, placing his coat around my shoulders. I meant to ask why he was being so kind, but instead, "Why are you staying for Christmas?" came out of my mouth. As soon as the words were said, I wanted to snatch them back. My sluggish thoughts caught up with my mouth, and I remembered that Lucius Malfoy was dead. "Nothing to go home to, is there?" he said with a bitter laugh, leaning against the rail beside me. Goosebumps were raised on his skin, and like everyone else, he too had healing scars criss-crossing his skin. "Sorry, I didn't mean-" "Whatever, Granger. Everyone knows you've lost your mind and gotten loopier, don't need to apologise," he said cruelly, and I felt my mouth tremble. An urge, one that I remembered from previous years, rose up inside. I had to _hurt _him, had to make him feel as much pain as I felt. "At least my father is alive," I hissed, and he whipped around to face me. "He doesn't even remember you," he sneered, but not as viciously as he once would have. "That may be so," I said, forcing the tremor out of my voice and hands, "But at least I grew up knowing both of my parents loved me." He blinked at me, and I suddenly wanted to take my words back for the second time in one night. Hadn't we all already been hurt enough? What was it about this insufferable boy that made my blood boil and say awful things? "Once a mudblood, Granger, _always _a mudblood," he said through gritted teeth, closing his eyes briefly. He pushed himself off of the railing and advanced towards me. Grabbing for my wand would be useless, because I'd forgotten any useful spells and hexes. "Malfoy, don't –" "Sod off, Granger!" he yelled in my face, and it was so like everything I remembered, like nothing had changed, that I returned to myself somewhat. I pulled my wand out of my pocket and gripped it with more strength than I felt. "Leave me alone!" I yelled back, but somehow a tremor made its way back into my hand, and my wand wavered. Malfoy's eyes flicked between my eyes and my wand in surprise, and it was only then that I noticed he was empty handed. He reached out and I winced, but he only grabbed my wrist and tugged my wand out of my fingers. "What are you doing?" I yelled, but he didn't answer. He took a step closer, and I braced myself for what was coming. However, he only slid my wand back in my pocket and stepped back again. He had stood close enough for me to feel his body heat, and I shivered without it. "Merry Christmas, Granger," he muttered, before turning and striding away. "But I still have your coat," I said to the empty air in front of me. 


End file.
